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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499629">Bowled Over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles'>didipickles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a troll in every universe, bowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:15:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stevie discovers David's secret bowling talent, she cons him into joining her league. Enter Patrick: cocky, teasing, inconveniently attractive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Schitt’s Creek Sports Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bowled Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCSportsFest">SCSportsFest</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>huge HUGE thanks to the creators of the sportsfest: DoubleL27, ships_to_sail, and RhetoricalQuestions! </p><p>this fic was made better by a lot of people who i will name specifically after author reveals, but please know i couldn't have done it alone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David crosses his arms tighter and sinks as low in the passenger seat as he can without sliding onto the floor. Although, given how low he's let his standards slip, the floor might be appropriate. Low standards are basically the only explanation for why he agreed to do this, but now that he's here and can <em> see </em>the bowling alley and its tacky neon sign, he's having second and third and fourth thoughts. </p><p>Stevie isn't helping. "Oh my god, stop being such a baby. We've bowled together before."</p><p>"That was different!" David nearly yells. "I was drunk off my ass and we weren't <em> competing </em> on a <em> team!" </em>He says the words like they're poisonous, like they might kill him if he doesn't fling them quickly enough out of his mouth. </p><p>Stevie barks out a laugh. "You were drunk off your ass and you still beat me by 24 pins."  </p><p>Well. Maybe that's true. David still remembers with clarity the look on Stevie’s face when she found his bowling bag in the motel room, and the absolutely gleeful sound she'd made when she realized he had a custom ball and shoes. Eventually she coerced him into going to the bowling alley in Elmdale where they’d gotten spectacularly drunk, did bad karaoke, and bowled until they couldn’t stand upright anymore. After that, David refused to go with her again.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>David supposes there are worse things; at least he’s on a team doing a sport he’s actually good at. He could have been drafted to fill in for baseball, which would be an unmitigated disaster. Instead, he’s back at the Elmdale bowling alley, this time participating in a <em> bowling league. </em>It’s not that he doesn’t like bowling. On the contrary, David has loved bowling since he was a kid. Loves the smell of the oil on the lanes, the sound of a ball striking pins, the whir of the ball return. The mansion had a private two-lane alley on the ground floor, and David and Alexis used to spend hours playing together as kids while they waited for their dad to get home from a conference, or for their mom to finally stumble out of her room. Once David moved to New York, when he got tired of people recognizing him and analyzing him, or when things with a gallery didn’t go well, or he just needed to be by himself, he would go to a shabby, ridiculous bowling alley in Brooklyn. When Alexis came to visit (not often), they’d go together and get drunk and have a few hours of a normal sibling relationship before Alexis jetted away and needed rescuing again. David loved those days, getting to bring along the custom ball and shoes he’d gotten as a treat for himself, spending time with Alexis that didn’t involve foreign embassies or dignitaries or chartered planes in the middle of the night to yet another new place to pick her up.</p><p>And the thing is, David really is a good bowler. But that doesn’t mean he wants everyone in Schitt’s Creek to think he’s willing to participate in their team events. Stevie’s team historically has included Ronnie and Gwen, but Gwen can’t play this year because bowling night conflicts with the tantric workshop she’s started leading. So Stevie used her insider knowledge of David’s love of bowling — and bowling alley food — to bribe him into taking Gwen’s spot, with the guarantee of nachos and pizza whenever he wants.</p><p>“C’mon, David. Grab your bag and let’s go. Unless you’re afraid to lose,” Stevie says, and even though David <em> knows </em>she’s playing dirty, it works.</p><p>With an over-exaggerated sigh, David acquiesces and gets out of the car with his bag. He can’t believe Stevie is actually wearing that hideous oversized green bowling shirt, and he’s almost upset at how good she manages to look in it. As soon as he sees the cursive scrawl of “AIR BUDD” on the back, his appreciation dissipates and they head inside. </p><p>Ronnie waves from the team’s aisle for the night, and David stifles a groan at her matching green bowling shirt with “THE QUEEN” on the back. David can appreciate coordinated outfits but this is just outrageous. He’d actually snorted in laughter when Stevie suggested he get one as well. Instead, he’s in a simple black short-sleeve Rick Owens, tastefully free of any puns or nicknames. </p><p>In spite of himself, David allows the familiar sounds and smells around him to take the edge off his disdain of group activities and team sports. He gives Ronnie a quick greeting, and she actually seems pleased to see him. David's not above flattery, so Ronnie flashing a rare genuine smile definitely helps him feel better. </p><p>He's in the middle of methodically changing from his high tops to his bowling shoes when he hears Jocelyn greet him from the next lane. David looks up with a plastered-on smile, ready to at least be somewhat charming, and instead he is <em> assaulted </em>by the most garishly neon blue he's ever had the misfortune of seeing. It's everywhere: right in front of him on Jocelyn, near the ball return on Twyla, and most alarmingly on a man David doesn't recognize but who is staring at David. The man is…well, he looks like a standard-issue Sims character, and the way he's grinning at David like they're old pals immediately sets David on edge.</p><p>About three seconds after David decides never to engage with this person, the man crosses to him, sticks out his hand, and announces, “I’m Patrick.”</p><p>For a moment, David gets caught up in wondering how big the holes in Patrick’s ball must be to fit his thick fingers, and then realizes he should probably respond. “David,” he replies, giving Patrick’s hand a brief shake. Firm grip, he thinks. Who the hell is this guy? How did he end up on Jocelyn’s team?</p><p>“David Rose, right?” The guy — Patrick — says. Fantastic. So this guy probably already has an opinion of David, spoon-fed to him from the Schitt’s Creek residents. At least he’s here with Jocelyn and Twyla, who objectively are the nicest people in the town and probably have the best things to say about David. There's the chance the man has Googled him, but at first glance he doesn't look like someone who would care about the gossip magazines in which David's appeared over the years.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s me,” David says cautiously, waiting for this man’s generic face to flash some sign of malice. </p><p>Instead, Patrick smiles wider and nods. “Been looking forward to bowling against you since Stevie told me about how good you are.”</p><p>Okay, what the <em> fuck?</em> How does this guy know <em> Stevie? </em>And why didn’t Stevie warn him about someone who apparently has been waiting to bowl against him?</p><p>David doesn’t have the chance to ask before Stevie materializes and immediately falls into conversation with Patrick like they’ve been best friends for years. It’s fucking annoying, so David moves to the seats on the far side of the lane and focuses on his pre-game routine. He takes his bowling ball out of the bag and counts to 15 while wiping it down, closes his eyes and visualizes his first throw of the game, pictures the various pin configurations and how to approach them. When he feels someone sit next to him, he resolutely keeps his eyes closed. He’s not in the mood to banter with Stevie about this new guy she’s apparently besties with; he’s here with a purpose.</p><p>Instead, he hears Ronnie’s low voice. “So you met the thumb, huh?”<br/><br/>That startles a laugh from David, and he opens his eyes. She’s got a point; the guy is cuter than David initially gave him credit for, but he does in fact look like a thumb. “Does everyone know him except me? Who is he?”</p><p>“Couple of us met him at the Wobbly Elm about a month ago,” Ronnie says. Her voice drips with disapproval, and David feels a flame of kinship over their shared dislike of this guy. “Stevie gave him a run for his money at the pool table. He’s new, working over at Ray’s.”</p><p>“And how does he know who I am?” Not like David cares. But if Stevie’s talking about him, David wants to know.</p><p>“We got to talking about other sports in town. Once spring rolls around he’s gonna play baseball, but Twyla brought up the bowling league. Stevie talked you up, so you better be on top of your game today.”</p><p>David pauses. “You said you met him a month ago?”</p><p>Ronnie nods, still looking at Patrick like she’d be happy to shove his head in the ball return.</p><p>“But I only agreed to be on your team a week ago.”</p><p>Ronnie barely gives him a glance. “Oh, Stevie said she knew you’d do it. Said you’re too competitive not to.” After another pause, Ronnie finally does look back at him, this time with a familiar tinge of a smirk. “Nice ball.”</p><p>David narrows his eyes as he watches Stevie laugh at something Patrick says. Maybe she’s trying to sleep with him? He can’t really blame her; he looks like the kind of guy who pays attention to if you’re having a good time. David rapidly changes his train of thought, focusing back on Stevie, who owes him bowling alley food for the rest of her life for this betrayal. She played him to get him here, and it’s not like he can back out now. Apparently Stevie’s given him a reputation, and a familiar itch flares up under his skin to prove himself. Especially to this obnoxiously kind-faced Patrick guy, who’s now talking to Twyla and laughing while he stretches in a series of ridiculous poses.</p><p>There are only four other teams in the league besides Ronnie’s and Jocelyn’s. Those teams are made up of residents from the various surrounding Elms, and David realizes this means he’s probably going to get to know Patrick fairly well over the next two months of the bowling season, whether he wants to or not. David actually wants to stay on good terms with Jocelyn and Twyla, so ignoring their team — “The Pin-Ups,” David learns with a laugh — isn’t feasible. At least David has plenty of practice dealing with shitty situations.</p><p>Once the bowling actually gets underway, David manages to get out of his head a bit. Even with all the talk about being mad at Stevie for dragging him here, David still <em> loves </em> it. Bowling and sex are basically the only times David feels entirely in control of his body and happy with its capabilities, and since the disastrous end of the throuple-that-wasn’t David hasn’t had much chance for sex. So he throws himself into the game, into the smooth release of the ball from his hands, the familiar camaraderie he has with Ronnie, the endless jibes and barbs with Stevie. It’s…well, it’s <em> nice. </em>It’s friendly and fun, with the competitive edge that teases out David’s best.</p><p>The first of three games finishes quickly, and David’s a little rusty. Even so, he did better than he expected. He’s halfway through a slice of pizza when he hears a warm voice at his side. </p><p>“Where’d you learn to do that hook?” Patrick asks, and David closes his eyes for just a second before turning and swallowing.</p><p>“I bowled a lot growing up,” David hedges. He knows his release is peculiar; his father used to comment on it every time he watched David and Alexis bowl as kids.</p><p>“It’s weird,” Patrick says. The smile that sits at the corner of his mouth irritates David.</p><p>“Great, well, I don’t recall hiring you as my coach, so I don’t really care what you think of it.” David knows he’s snapping, and that it’s not really warranted, but seriously, <em> fuck </em>this guy and his brown eyes and stupid fucking forearms and unsolicited opinion. </p><p>Patrick’s eyebrows go up — at least, David thinks they do, it’s hard to tell — and David immediately regrets what he said, but he’s always been one to double-down on bad choices. </p><p>“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got two more games to bowl, and in case you hadn’t noticed, my ‘weird’ release got me 4 pins more than you, so.”</p><p>The smile is back at the corner of Patrick’s lips, and his eyes narrow just a little in a look David recognizes as a challenge being accepted. David’s pulse is quick, and it’s entirely about wanting to beat this guy’s ass. It has absolutely nothing to do with the little thrill that shot through him at Patrick not backing down. Nope.</p><p>Four frames into the second game, Stevie is up over David by 13 pins and looks worried. She doesn’t particularly care about any personal stake David has in the game, but she has made it very clear that she will disown David as a friend if their team loses. </p><p>“Get it together, David, fuck,” she intones after he misses an easy spare.</p><p>The thing is, David keeps letting his gaze wander over to the lane next to them, to Patrick’s easy banter with Twyla and the way he seems so carefree when he does a perfectly respectable four-step approach and average passive hook that still manages to close each frame with a strike or spare. It’s goddamn annoying. Patrick probably said something about David’s release on purpose, to fuck with him. And the worst part is that it’s <em> working. </em>Every time David gets up to bowl, he’s hyper-aware of the way he grips the ball, the way his arm swings way out to the side. 40 minutes ago he was thinking of how in control he feels of his body, and now he’s second-guessing himself.</p><p>He’s just missed another easy pickup and left a pin standing, and he returns to his seat glowering. As if on cue, Patrick pops up. </p><p>“Why’d you change your throw?” He doesn’t sound accusatory, or even like he's gloating. He sounds interested, concerned even, like he actually cares that David is trailing him by double digits.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” David responds gloomily. “Couldn’t have anything to do with some guy telling me I bowl wrong.”</p><p>Patrick’s lips are twitching, but he has the decency to look slightly chastened. “For the record, I didn’t say you were bowling wrong, I said it was weird.”</p><p>David rolls his eyes, but Patrick goes on.</p><p>“But I mean, I’m pretty confident in saying you’re bowling wrong now.” Patrick isn’t trying to hide his smile anymore.</p><p>David’s mouth drops open, and he might actually punch this guy, despite never having punched anyone in his life. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”</p><p>“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Patrick shoots back easily. “I’m not the one off his game.”</p><p>After a full seven seconds of staring at Patrick, David thinks he understands. Patrick is…joking with him. Like they are friends, or something. He knows how to handle being antagonized — he’s friends with Stevie after all — but he isn’t friends with this guy. They just happen to know some of the same people.  </p><p>David nods slowly, then looks up at the scores. He has 4 frames left of this game, and if he bowls almost perfectly and Patrick takes a few key misses, he can close the gap. His eyes flash back to Patrick. “You’re fucking on,” David says, and Patrick’s grin spreads wider.</p><p>“There’s the guy Stevie told me about.” And with that, Patrick goes back to his lane.</p><p>David has 30-something years of anecdotal evidence to prove that he is a competitive little shit, so this is familiar territory for him. He pours every ounce of his desire to prove himself into the back half of the game. Occasionally he glances over at Patrick, and almost always finds him looking back. After David gets a strike that would earn slow-motion replays if this was a movie, Patrick actually winks. It's unsettling and aggravating, but David realizes it's also, unfortunately, hot. </p><p>Despite his best efforts, David ends the second game 2 pins shy of Patrick's score. David’s average is still higher than Patrick’s, and the night isn’t over. Everything comes down to the last game. Ronnie compliments David on how he bounced back, and then whispers low in his ear that he "better beat that smug little man" in the last 10 frames. As far as motivational speeches from Ronnie go, it’s a real tear-jerker.</p><p>The third and final game of the night starts with David in near-perfect form. He’s sitting ahead of Stevie and Ronnie halfway through, and he’s got a healthy lead over Patrick. Twyla’s beating him, but David honestly doesn’t give a fuck, as long as he beats Patrick and his insistent smirk and little winks.</p><p>“Hey, looks like you’re back on your game,” Patrick says after David throws another strike. Something about the way he talks makes it almost impossible to tell if he is teasing or serious, and that rubs David the wrong way too. He can normally read people, but he can’t read Patrick, and he just wanted to come and <em> bowl, </em>not maybe be teased by some random new guy in town who Stevie may or may not be trying to sleep with.</p><p>“And it looks like you might need to go into a different sport,” David replies, and he doesn’t try to hide the ice in his voice. </p><p>Apparently Patrick doesn’t get it, because he laughs and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, not my finest. Twyla’s picking up my slack, so we might at least pull a win over those guys.” Patrick gestures to the other teams, made up of more generic-looking people with embarrassing bowling shirts and wide smiles. </p><p>At this point David’s really not sure what Patrick wants. He keeps coming back to talk to David, and hasn’t said a word to Stevie in a game and a half. If Stevie’s trying to sleep with him, she might need to give it up. </p><p>“Hi boys, so sorry to break up the inter-team fraternizing, but Patrick, you’re up,” Jocelyn interrupts, and she gives David an apologetic look and then a very over-the-top suggestive wink once Patrick is back in the lane. David is baffled and a little disgusted and would very much like this night to be over.</p><p>Instead, he bowls the best he has all night and ends up tying his personal best. When he gets a turkey in the final frame, Stevie actually jumps onto his back, and David does a small lap of their area with her riding piggyback. He sees the small smile playing on Ronnie’s lips, and okay, maybe the night wasn’t a total bust. </p><p>Twyla congratulates him, Jocelyn comments on his strength and speed, and then Patrick’s there again, looking pleased with himself, despite finishing almost 20 pins behind his teammates. </p><p>“So,” Patrick says, head cocked. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>“I’m — you — <em> excuse </em>me?!” David sputters. This self-important asshole is the actual fucking worst, and David has absolutely had enough. “Please, I’m begging you, explain what I have to thank you for, really.”</p><p>Patrick laughs and shakes his head before pointing up at the screen with the score. </p><p>“And what in the actual <em> fuck </em>does my score have to do with you?” David demands.</p><p>In perhaps his most infuriating move of the evening, Patrick doesn’t answer. He laughs again. “See you next week, David.” And then he’s gone.</p><p>David spends the entire car ride back to Schitt’s Creek fuming to Stevie about the arrogant prick she’s somehow brought into his life. After she parks the car, she turns and fixes him with an appraising stare. “Sounds to me like you’re kind of obsessed with the guy.”</p><p>It’s all so goddamn frustrating that David has to stop himself from screaming like a petulant child when he counters back. “I am <em> not </em> obsessed with him! I just think he was really rude and self-important and obnoxious and he told me I was <em> weird,</em> and I have no idea why you conned me into your little conquest but I —”</p><p>Stevie actually cackles, startling David into silence. He arches an eyebrow until she answers. “David. Patrick is gay. Big time. Like, moved to a new city to explore himself gay.”</p><p>That stops him short. “He — what?” </p><p>“He got very drunk when we played pool, and when Ronnie mentioned her girlfriend, Patrick perked right up and told us all about it.” Stevie sounds amused, and combined with everything else from the night, David is at the very end of his rope. </p><p>“Okay, well. Be that as it may, he was still a total asshole,” David says through gritted teeth, unbuckling himself and reaching for his bag.</p><p>“So you’ve said. For the past 26 minutes straight, without stopping for breath.” The implication in Stevie’s voice pushes David right out of the car.</p><p>“Fuck off and goodnight, Stevie.”</p><p>He hears Stevie’s voice bounce off the gravel parking lot and facade of the motel, echoing all around him when she shouts back, “You like him!”</p><p>It takes a very long shower and two sleeping pills for David to stop hearing Stevie’s words. <em> You like him. </em> Fucking absurd. For one, he barely knows the guy. Sure, Patrick is passably attractive and maybe he has nice forearms, and okay, his voice is kind of appealing. But that doesn’t change that Patrick had been a dick! Or, at least, it seemed like it. David has a habit of thinking people are picking a fight with him, and he concedes right before drifting off to sleep that <em> maybe </em>he was too hard on Patrick. But it really doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t have to think about it until next week’s match.</p><p>Or, that would be true if the entire universe wasn't playing a giant cosmic joke on him.</p><p>Because of course Patrick is sitting at the counter in the cafe when David comes in for lunch. And of course Patrick says his name with a smile and pats the chair next to him. David looks around the cafe in vain for any way to get out of this, but is met with nothing. When an escape hatch doesn’t magically present itself, David sighs and reluctantly sits next to Patrick, looking him over. He’s traded the bright blue bowling shirt for a dark blue button-up. The top buttons are undone, revealing Patrick's long neck that David absolutely is not staring at. </p><p>To David's surprise, Patrick is actually not a huge dick when he isn’t criticizing David’s technique, and he realizes he’s actually enjoying the steady banter that develops between them as they eat. They get to talking about the general store going out of business, and David somehow finds himself telling Patrick the half-baked plan he has for leasing the store himself. Patrick's voice is almost giddy as he talks through the steps David needs to follow: with Patrick working at Ray's doing business consulting, he knows the ins and outs of what David needs to do, and offers the help freely. It's…pleasant. Suspicious, but pleasant.</p><p>Eventually Patrick looks at his watch and his eyes go comically wide. "Oh my god, I have to get back to Ray's." He leaves a few bills on the counter and barely meets David's eye when he stutters out a goodbye, ears gone pink for no discernible reason. It's a massive departure from the self-assured arrogant guy David met the night before, who just confidently explained business procedure to him, and he can’t figure out why the slight blush on Patrick’s cheeks has his insides doing little swooping motions. </p><p>Whatever. David can pack that away with his ball and shoes and Stevie’s unfounded claim until bowling night.</p><p>A few days later, David receives a text from an unknown number that can only be Patrick.</p><p>
  <em> Stevie is really cavalier about giving out your phone number. You might want to talk to her about her total disregard for your privacy. </em>
</p><p>And just like that, David and Patrick are something resembling friends. They text about business incorporation papers, about Patrick's experiences as Ray's roommate, about their movie tastes. </p><p>When bowling night rolls around again, David is unusually quiet on the drive up. Stevie has been mercifully silent about the fact that she gave Patrick David's number, and David's afraid if he says anything to give her an in, she'll pounce. So instead he sits quietly, trying not to think about the nervous knot in his stomach at the idea of seeing Patrick again. </p><p>The nervousness crescendos when Patrick immediately smiles wider as soon as he sees David in the alley. Patrick is matching with his teammates again this week, this time in highlighter orange. On the one hand, David appreciates the commitment to having outfit choices, but on the other hand it looks so terrible that David can’t stay intimidated by Patrick for too long. </p><p>Their lanes are further apart tonight, and by the second game, David is counting the number of times Patrick comes over to chat with him. Four in the first game, six so far in the second, and there are still three frames left. Stevie keeps shooting David significant looks behind Patrick’s back, pointing at him and giving David the thumbs up, and David is going to murder her on the way home.</p><p>David doesn’t pay much attention to the scores tonight; he’s honest enough with himself to admit that his focus is somewhere five lanes over.</p><p>At the end of the three games, Ronnie claps David on the back and tells him he’s done well. David smiles and thanks her, but his gaze is already wandering over to where Jocelyn and Twyla and Patrick are toasting each other. They came in fourth tonight, out of six teams, so David’s not sure what there is to celebrate, but they all look happy. At the last second before Patrick takes a drink, his eyes find David’s and he lifts the glass slightly towards him. </p><p>Oh, fuck. David likes him. </p><p>But it’s fine. It’s manageable. Patrick may be gay, and in Schitt’s Creek to explore himself, but David is about a thousand percent sure he isn’t Patrick’s type. </p><p>That doesn’t stop Patrick from texting David every day over the next month though, about anything and everything. They talk about Alexis, and Patrick’s parents, and David’s life in New York, and Patrick’s ex-fiancee, and more about the store David wants to open, and all of it is remarkably easy. Patrick is funny, self-deprecating, and not afraid to fight back when David is snippy. Sometimes they meet at the cafe for lunch, and David tries to keep his heart from leaping out of his throat every time he makes Patrick laugh. And then there’s the embarrassing day David goes to Ray’s to file the paperwork for the business and does the whole form incorrectly and Patrick produces a completely filled out form based on the conversations they’ve had, and David’s stomach does an entire Olympics gymnastics routine at the fact that Patrick <em> listened </em>to him.</p><p>The bowling nights are a highlight of each week, and not just because David gets to sneakily watch the way Patrick’s thick legs look as he holds his stance after each throw. David’s started to enjoy being on the team, the feeling of accomplishment after they all do well together, and he’s even gotten to know some of the people from the other teams. Stevie keeps badgering David about what’s going on between him and Patrick, but David just shrugs each time and tells her that they are friends. That’s true, but David pointedly does <em> not </em> tell her that her instinct was correct and that David is now harboring an embarrassing crush. He’s used to wanting things he can’t have, and Patrick <em> is </em>a good friend, and it’s all entirely fine.</p><p>One afternoon, the week before the bowling season ends, David is unpacking another shipment at the still-unopened Rose Apothecary when he hears the bell over the door jingle. He’s ready to tell whoever walked in to check the sign which clearly says that he isn’t open yet. He turns to see Patrick in his usual non-bowling uniform of jeans and a blue button-up. David breaks into an easy smile and gestures around. “No need to tell me I’m a genius, the store pretty much speaks for itself.”</p><p>Patrick laughs and shifts on the spot. He’s got something in his hands, thin and square. “Can’t do much without this though,” he says with a flourish, turning the thing he’s holding around to reveal David’s business license, framed and shiny and real. </p><p>“Oh my god, so this is like, a real thing that’s going to happen,” David says, coming toward Patrick and taking the frame. Obviously he’s known that; the store around him is full of product he paid for. But seeing this piece of evidence legitimizing his newest dream — it’s a lot. </p><p>“It’s really going to be something, David,” Patrick says, crossing his arms and looking around.</p><p>David looks back up at Patrick from the license. “Thank you,” he says softly, “for all your help with this. I honestly don’t think I would have been able to get anything off the ground without you, so. Thanks.” </p><p>“Of course. It’s my pleasure.” Patrick looks like he wants to say more, but just stands there, arms crossed and looking back at David.</p><p>“Right, so. I’ll just…” David trails off and takes the license behind the register, trying to figure out the best place to put it on the wall. He moves to turn around and ask Patrick what he thinks, but then Patrick is there, behind the counter, crowding into David with a look of determination on his face. David’s eyes go wide.</p><p>Patrick hesitates for a half-second, and David watches his eyes flick down to David’s lips and then back up, and then David understands and they meet in the middle, lips warm and soft and pressing. Without looking, David sets the frame on the counter and lets Patrick push him back against the wall while they kiss and kiss and kiss, and David’s heart is absolutely going to burst through his ribcage at any second. Patrick doesn’t kiss anything like the way he bowls. Everything he does in bowling is precise, measured, calm. He kisses like he might die at any moment and so he has to get as much from each second as possible. It means he kisses with his thumbs digging into David’s sweater above his hips, and with his mouth in constant motion, and David allows himself to be swept up in it, carried with the current of electricity surging between them.</p><p>David’s hands are clutching Patrick’s shoulders when they finally separate, and Patrick has the same pink tinge on his cheeks that he’d had in the cafe the first time they ate together. He’s absolutely radiant, and David closes his eyes and lets his head fall back because he might go blind if he looks for too long.</p><p>“Was that…” comes Patrick’s voice. “Um, is this okay?”</p><p>David actually laughs at that, and he can feel Patrick trying to take a step back, to put a safe distance between them. David doesn’t give him an inch, using his grip on Patrick’s shoulders to keep him close. “This is <em> really </em>fucking okay,” David responds, and Patrick leans in to kiss him again.</p><p>It’s hard to say exactly how long they spend in the store after that, against the wall and eventually in the back room. There are giggles, and lips and hands and teeth, and eventually bitten-off cries and curses, and David is <em> happy.  </em></p><p>When they walk into the alley for the final game of the season hand-in-hand, Stevie’s eyes widen. He hadn't given her a reason for not needing a ride today, just that he'd meet her there, and now he watches the realization dawn. “I fucking knew it, I fucking <em> knew </em>it,” she says, coming over and smacking David’s shoulder. </p><p>Ronnie says something under her breath that sounds like “took you long enough,” and Twyla nearly falls over for how enthusiastically she jumps up and down, and all the while Patrick smiles and blushes and bumps his shoulder against David’s.</p><p>David smiles back. He honestly does not give a fuck what happens in the game, because he’s already won.</p>
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